


It's Laser Tag, Jace

by Jacewinchester



Category: The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: F/M, Kissing, Laser Tag, Making Out, POV Clary Fray, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 10:06:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18602344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacewinchester/pseuds/Jacewinchester
Summary: Clary, Jace, and friends go to play laser tag. Jace commits the ultimate betrayal.





	It's Laser Tag, Jace

“That vest suits you,” I say, just a hint of sarcasm in my tone as I take in the sight of Jace who’s dressed, against my direct advice, in his all-black shadowhunter gear.  _ “It’s a form of battle,”  _ he’d argued.  _ “It’s laser tag, Jace”  _ I’d insisted, but in the end, he did what he wanted.

“Of course it does. Everything suits me,” jace deadpans, and I roll my eyes playfully.

“Will you two stop flirting? You’re on different teams!” Simon interjects. “We need to take this seriously!”

“We’re supposed to take this seriously?” Magnus asks, looking out of place in the vest, the gun held awkwardly in his hand. Simon groans.

As we enter the laser tag arena, the two teams, one consisting of Clary, Simon, and Magnus with Jace, Alec, and Isabelle making up the other, part ways. We wait in separate corners of the arena for the game to start.

“So, what’s our strategy?” Simon asks.

Before anyone can make any suggestions, we hear a deep voice from overhead say, “Ready, go”.

“Shoot them,” I say, in answer to Simon’s question, and slip away into the darkness.

Throughout the arena, different walls and objects are laid out to hide behind. I hug close to these objects as I weave my way through the arena, looking for the red lights that signal a member of the other team. I aim at a glowing, red target across the arena, and hit my target, then hide behind a wall, obscuring me from my opponent’s view.

_ “Good job,”  _ a voice coming from a speaker on my gun says.

“Why, thank you,” I respond as if it can hear me.

“You’re welcome,” a familiar voice says, and I look up to see Jace, pointing his gun at me.  _ Shit.  _

I run, taking random turns as I make my way through the arena, Jace not far behind me. It’s not long before I hit a corner, effectively trapping myself.  _ Damn.  _

“Guess I’ve got you now,” Jace says, his tone somewhere between arrogant and seductive. He steps closer. I’m waiting  __ for him to shoot me, but he doesn’t.

He takes another step towards me. Then another. And another. Each step is slow, deliberate, intended to build the tension, and it’s working. My heart races, and suddenly I don’t care about the game anymore. I’m not thinking of running away, but rather how I can get closer.

We’re almost chest-to-chest, or rather, face-to-chest when he leans down, and whispers in my ear. “Can’t run now, Fairchild”,

“What are you going to do?” It’s a challenge more than a question.

He smirks, and leans in, kissing me.any thought of the game is long abandoned, and i drop my gun in favor of weaving my fingers through his fair blond hair. One of his large hands seizes my waist, pulling me closer.

His touch sends waves of warmth and pleasure through me as I press as close to him as I can get. Our tongues find a rhythm with each other, and I lose myself in the moment, in him.

I can feel him smile against my lips, and he pulls away, looking down at me lovingly. “Got you,” he says.

I furrow my eyebrows. “What?”

His smile changes to a smirk as he points his gun at me, shoots me, and then turns, and runs away.

I watch his receding form, eyes wide, mouth open in stunned silence. After taking a moment to overcome my shock, I clench my hands into fists. “Jace Herondale, get back here!” I shout.

I hear laughter in the distance, and the same deep voice from the beginning of the game announces, “Game over. Players return to base”.

I return to my team’s corner to find Simon and Magnus. “How’d you do?” Simon asks.

“Fine,” I say. The scores flash on the screen, mine incredibly, frustratingly low.

“What? You barely hit anyone!” Simon declares loudly. “What were you doing that whole time?”

My mind wanders back to the moment with Jace. I feel a combination of satisfaction and frustration. “Just drop it, Simon,” I sigh as we step out of the arena, rejoining the others.


End file.
